Minty Thrill
by Tackhead9
Summary: The kooky adventures of aspiring and idiotic Pokemon trainer Tony Chambers, his tough as nails Bulbasaur Leaves, and a whole slew of other nutbags.
1. Midday with the Master

**MINTY THRILL**

**Chapter the Prologue**

**Midday with the Master**

In my infinite wisdom, there remains but a sparse few things that I have not, and may never, figure out entirely. The meaning of life is one of those questions too complex to decode. Working VCR clocks is another one of life's secrets that proves hellishly confounding.

But above all else, the one matter that I find so damning, so indescribably wicked, is, and always has been, time. It's something I have trouble comprehending, and it's something that has never been my friend. If I ever met Father Time I'd beat him up and roll him off a bridge.

On this day however, time had won. Again it had foiled my efforts, and again… I awoke at 12 PM.

"My god…" I croaked, and rolled over groggily. I rubbed my eyes furiously, hoping to remove the remnants of sleep from them, along with anything else that may have ended up there.

I reached over for my bedside bottle of water, and took a quick swig before throwing it over my shoulder haphazardly. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

"I sure as hell hope I don't oversleep on Saturday." I continued, a goofy grin planted on my face.

Saturday was the big day… Saturday was my time to shine… On Saturday, I would be facing the world, and getting my first Pokémon, a moment far too cliché to go spreading around, but exciting all the same. I had waited for this day for a long time, longer than most. I was fourteen, and had already failed Professor Gums Pokémon lessons four years in a row. This time however, through some elaborate cheating and exam thievery, I had attained the highest mark in the class, a sign of my dedication toward education.

Now nothing could stand in my way…

I slowly shifted toward the edge of the bed, contemplating. How long did these 'journey' things take? A week, I guess.

Fortunately I had attained enough time off school to fit the adventure in without getting in trouble. Nothing more than telling Principal Douglas I had chicken pox, and I was good to go. Well, I didn't tell him in person, obviously. I assumed that chicken pox had something to do with poultry, so I just made a lot of clucking noises on the phone.

Stretching lazily, I felt good about this story of success. …And speaking of success, I would have to prepare my victory speech for when I defeated the Elite Door. I realised that I didn't have much time; I mean, how hard could it be to beat up on a damn door?

I rolled again, this time completely falling from bed onto the hard floor. I took the opportunity of being down there to grab an old toy microphone from underneath the bed, as well as a handful of dust that looked like it was alive and scared me witless.

Excitedly, I leapt atop the bed, audibly cracked my neck, and cleared my throat.

"Hello, all my loyal fans!" I roared, the microphone rumbling in a plasticky echo, "It is I, Anthony Chambers from Burake Town! It's the fourth… or, umm, fifth town of our lovely state of Furudo. I'm hot off a visit from Loserville's grass-type gym…" I paused for a moment, "Uh, Jungle Gym, and I of course defeated the leader there for the ninth time. That just shows what happens when Frank Furt messes with Terrible Tony! In short, I kicked grass!"

I moved the microphone away from my face, and made a series of guffaws to symbolise the enthusiastic crowd response.

"Seriously though, I'm here to tell all of you future Pokémon masters out there to try your best, never give up hope, and stay in school!"

_Unlike I did… _I recalled, a minor twinge of guilt surfacing.

"But above all else, always remember the little people."

I moved the microphone away again, and chirped in a tiny voice, "Like me, Mr. Tony?"

I bent over, and smiled warmly at this nonexistent child, "Yes, just like you, little… Horace. I couldn't have gotten to where I am today without you, and without my legions of fans, and without the help of my loyal Pokémon…" I paused, and leant further, "My loyal Pokémon… Umm, I like to call him- AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!" I bellowed as I leant too far, and fell off the bed headfirst. I hit the floor with a sickening thud, then lied there for a couple minutes.

"Oww… self-piledriver." I moaned, and sat up, rubbing my noggin.

_Perhaps I should decide which Pokémon I'll choose right about now. _I pondered, _As well as think of a name more sufficient than AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH._

It was time to put my amazing decision-making skills to good use. I grabbed a nearby pen and a pad of paper. I had to think for a minute to remember what the options were.

There was that pear thing with the leaf on its head… I scribbled down Chocolata.

Then, there's that… water crocodile thing. Something along the lines of Big ol' Smile. And… oh yeah, the turtle thing. Yerdle, or something.

And then there was that fire shrew thing. Mintythrill. And, and the lizard; that was a fire Pokémon too. Wow, I was just too good at this. I jotted Charbladder, then gave a long hard thought to the final Pokémon available.

It was… that scary frog thing with a green fortune cookie on its back. That was called a Bulb-is-sore.

With my arsenal in front of me, it was time to determine which I would collect from the good Professor. Of course, I'd get all of them in two days; three if I was busy with a photo shoot, but to get my first few, I'd need one to start with. And there were a lot of things to consider. Important things…

_Every Pokémon has a diverse range of advantages and disadvantages. There is the obvious range of elements that the Pokémon thrives off, and which of these could overcome another in battle, but one also has to consider the blend of statistics and specialties each species possesses._

_Although a Pokémon can 'level up', increasing its power and maturity, and improving each of its statistical qualities, it can only be as good as it knows how to be._

_Therefore, a Pokémon must also be equipped with the correct attack abilities. One must avoid focussing on physical attacks for Pokémon possessing low attack power, and likewise Pokémon with poor elemental control, or 'special attack' power should not be made to use many elemental techniques._

_Other qualities of a Pokémon must also be taken into consideration. Which of the moves can it learn to overcome its weaknesses and capitalize on its strengths? If it possesses a diverse range, it will overcome a wide range of obstacles, whilst one must remember that it will excel with attacks of the same element that it is._

_Above all however, this Pokémon needs love. With a considerate trainer who is willing to try to be something, a Pokémon can excel. A trainer who is prepared to go through the harsh days and nights, and tend for the Pokémon when it is sick. To be a master, one must remember to be a trainer._

"…Is that it?" I groaned, and flipped another page of the exam I had stolen and submitted as my own, "No wonder I never read any of those stupid books…"

I peered around, and spotted my Pokémonopoly board game. Thinking quickly, I grabbed a die from the box, and held it tightly in my palm.

"When one lacks proper education and credentials," I said in a hushed tone, "He must rely upon the chance bestowed upon him by the good people at Parker Brothers." I excitedly rolled it along the floor.

It swivelled to a stop, before landing clearly on the one. That meant… Chocolata.

_That's kind of… girlish. _I thought to myself, headlines of me being a sissy running through my head.

I gulped, and looked around. Hoping nobody would notice (seeing as I was alone and all, it's unlikely that they would), I lightly pushed it over. It stopped on four, which meant I would be getting the shrew.

I grinned, and stood tall. "I shall conquer all… WITH MY MINTYTHRILL!!"

My moment of shining glory was interrupted with a startling pounding against the door.

"Shut up Chambers!" Mr. Michaels bellowed. He was the landlord, and perhaps an oversized blob from a science experiment gone awry, to boot. "You keep the noise up and you're gonna get a minty thrill where the sun don't shine!!"

It was overly hopeful to assume he was referring to the underside of my pillow. I hastily grabbed my pen, should I need it to ward off the 300-pound blob.

"And get the rent ready tomorrow. You ain't gonna scam me with that chicken pox excuse this time, punk!"

"Bu-bu-buckaw?" I squeaked sheepishly, hoping I could trick him,

"Yeah that's right, I only accept bu-bu-bucks!" he roared. I could hear him waddling down the hallway, muttering profanities and ancient Chinese curses.

I sighed, a wave of relief rushing over me. However, something struck me as odd. Payday was on Sunday… But in theory, wouldn't that mean…?

I raced over to the table, which seemed to have just about everything on it, and looked at my watch. There, in big digital letters, it read 'SATURDAY'.

TODAY was the big day! TODAY was my time to shine! Today, I was… LATE!

"Aww Hölle!" I shouted, and threw the watch at the closet door. It smashed into a hundred pieces.

"Aww Hölle!" I repeated, when I recalled that the watch was a gift from my grandfather.

"Aww Hölle!" I let out one more time when it hit me; my grandfather was dead.

I guess those German lessons did come in handy after all…


	2. The White Rabbit Rides Again

**MINTY THRILL**

**Chapter the First**

**The White Rabbit Rides Again**

"Late?" I groaned, and threw open the closet door, "Late?? That's so… unoriginal!" I felt like someone had just stuck a neon 'cliché' sign on my back.

Frantically throwing articles of clothing aside, I looked for something clean. I didn't get the time to wash my clothes all that often, and even when I did, it usually consisted of dunking it in the toilet then covering it with toothpaste.

Lacking anything better, I grabbed a big pink Barney T-shirt, Hello Kitty runners and a pair of shorts so short I felt like my butt would go on protest.

"I can't believe I'm doing this…" I said mournfully, "I wore these last week!!"

Regardless, I was ready for action. What kind of action is best not said. I threw open my door, ran out into the hall and barrelled down the stairs, almost hitting Mrs. Veshuan with a clothesline along the way.

_Too bad I missed,_ I thought spitefully.

Once down at the ground floor I kicked the front desk aside for good measure, and crashed through the front entrance to the fresh morning breeze of Burake Town. And in the afternoon, no less.

I scrambled onto the sidewalk, and made a mad dash towards Professor Gum's dinghy. …That's right, a dinghy. Burake Town isn't all that noticeable, so Gum lacks the funding and perks of being a professor. Then again, he's also a captain and a licensed minister, so maybe it's just him.

The lake was in view. I squinted, and could see Professor Gum circling around in his boat, singing a shanty. "Professor Gum!" I bellowed, skidding to a stop, "I'm here! I'm here!"

He peered lazily at me, and snorted. "Arr…" he scoffed in a gruff voice, "I'm sick of all ye damned landlubbers comin' to me classes late. I oughta make you walk the plank…"

I gave him a bemused look, and, defeated, he ripped off his eyepatch.

"Fine then!" he whined, "You kids never let me have any fun."

Without his pirate gear, he looked like any professor would. 47, wearing a slightly dirty white coat, and balding. His thick beard must've been where he stored the rest of his hair.

"Anyway, you're too late, Tony." He continued, "You were supposed to be here at 6. …Not 6 times 2!"

"I did not come here at 66 o'clock!" I shot back.

"Sorry kid, but I'm all out of Pokémon." He sighed, and looked at me. Surely he could see the disappointment and sorrow in my face. I was trying really, really hard to show it. After a moment, he perked up and smiled awkwardly, "I do, however, have one thing that'll take you closer to being a master than just a Pokémon!"

He reached into his deep coat pocket, and thrusted out a strange rectangular red contraption, which fit neatly in his hand. He passed it over, and I glimpsed at it. It looked familiar, and after a brief moment's thought, I got it.

"This… this is a Pokéd-"

"That's right, Tony!" he interrupted, "This is a Pokédatsu-brand novelty clock!"

I frowned, and flipped open the cover. There were several foreign markings on a fading screen. I looked up to see Gum rowing frantically away.

"Of course, I'm not sure which country it's from, but at least you'll always know when it's Chio Chio o'clock!" he cackled.

"Aww Hölle!" I snapped, dejectedly. That bastard had just scammed me out of a Pokémon. I turned around, and began to walk away. Annoyed, I threw the clock over my shoulder.

It sailed through the air, before I heard a very audible thump, followed by a scream and the sound of a body hitting the water. There were a few frantic gargles, then silence.

I gulped as to what it was, and ran for my life.

"What a gyp!" I said, sitting on a stump near a restaurant, "I'm cold, alone, and missing Jeopardy!"

Above all else however, (well, maybe a smidgen less important than missing Jeopardy) I had failed my mission to become a master, and attain my Mintythrill.

My quest was over, in a tender…

I peered over at the town clock.

"Eight minutes. New record." I muttered.

Before I could leave home and sob into my pillow, I heard a rustling from the bushes. Not taking into account the possibility of it being a cat or a hobo, I determined that there was a Pokémon in that thar foliage.

"This is it!" I said, excitement welling up, "The rare and elusive-"

A sesame seed bun rolled out from behind.

"Sandwich?"

A blue-green claw stretched out from behind the bush, and pulled the helpless sub back behind the bush.

"Now either that sandwich is evading capture," I deduced, walking toward the bush, "Or…"

I looked behind the bush, and there it was. A small blue dinosaur/frog/scaryass thing with the big green thingo on its back.

"Bulb-is-sore!" I said anxiously.

It looked at me, one eyebrow raised curiously. "Bulb-A-saur." It argued.

"I can't believe it, this is my chance to get a Mintythrill, all I gots to do is trade off this Bulb-is-sore." I bubbled, and the Bulb-is-sore stood up.

"Bulb-A-SAUR." It protested, this time louder and angrier.

I picked up a rock, and raised my arm, ready to throw. "You're coming with me, Bulb-is-sore," I threatened, "Any attempt to resist is futile!"

It stomped its foot angrily. "BULBASAUUUUUUR!!" it bellowed, and chewed up a piece of sandwich. It hawked it up in my direction. A piece of chewed up lettuce and saliva hit me on the cheek.

"Nooo!" I gasped, stumbling around, "Healthy Food Spit! Bulb-is-sore's special attack!!"

I wiped it off hurriedly, and winded up my throw. "Gooooooooooo rock!!"

Bulb-is-sore watched my arm swivel around, and yawned. Finally I let it go, and the rock soared majestically… right onto my foot. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I started to whimper.

The Bulb-is-sore shook its head as though it was going to be sick, and charged at me at full speed.

"Tackle attack!" I gulped. It was easy to remember an attack when you thought of it as a modified spear.

The Bulb-is-sore picked up speed, and I looked around frantically for something to fight it off with.

"Um, urg…" I gulped, "Go… foot!"

The Bulb-is-sore leapt up at me, and I did all I could. I kicked it in the face, leaving a clear shoeprint in its face. It landed on its feet, and started stumbling around dizzily.

"Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuurrrrrrr……" it groaned.

If it was so sore, I assumed it was male. A female Bulb-is-sore probably would've slapped me by now. Creative plus number one.

He shook his head rapidly, before pointing a claw at me accusingly.

"Saur, bulba, saur, bulb… saaaaur!" He snarled with such feeling I felt as though I should go at war for him.

He looked back down at the remaining sandwich, then back at me, a wicked smirk crossing his face.

I began to sweat as he chewed on the sub, churned it up in his mouth, and turned to a large fence. His mouth puffed up, and he shot a barrage of sesame seeds at it.

They went right through the fence, and left a message. It read, 'I'm going to kill you, sucker'

If nothing else, this Bulb-is-sore was a very good speller.

He turned back at me, and though some would question the logic behind such lethal sesame seeds, I decided not to dwell on it, and instead started running.

In retrospect, it must've been a very unusual sight to see a fourteen-year-old lad prancing around town in short shorts bellowing for his life as a very angry frog chased after him firing sesame seeds.

I ducked a seed that would've otherwise hit me in the head, and began to panic. I had to think quickly; otherwise I would've been killed quite literally by bad food. I spotted a nearby tree, which had a Weedle crawling along a branch. They were easy to remember; I filled Mrs. Veshuan's room with them one time.

I snatched the bemused bug, and grabbed the pen from my pocket. I pointed it at the Weedle's throat. Or what seemed like its throat anyway.

"Come any closer and the bug gets it!!" I roared.

Bulb-is-sore looked at me as though I just said something very stupid. From the look on his face, I came under the bold impression that he didn't care whether or not I killed the damn bug.

"Well… I'll make you care!" I shouted, and took the Weedle in both hands. I swung it madly like a club, and managed to conk Bulb-is-sore on the head.

He stumbled around, before fainting. I cheered, and put the dazed Weedle down.

"We beat him, Weedle!" I cried with glee, and looked down at the bug. Its nose was bleeding, and its horn was broken right off.

I picked the white horn up in one hand, and Bulb-is-sore in the other.

"Well," I muttered, offering my sympathy, "You're a Caterpie now!"

Victoriously I made my way back to the apartment. If there was anything I had learned from school, it was that when there's no Pokémon Centre around, you should always go home for your mother to heal your Pokémon.

I busted through the front door, and looked around like a lost little boy. "Mom?" I called, "MOOOOOM?!"

Then it hit me. My mom was in Kentucky. And my dad worked at Kentucky, for that matter.

"Aww Hölle!" I snapped, and set Bulb-is-sore down on the floor. Pondering briefly, I decided to use absolute desperation manoeuvres. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself and knocked on the door of the closest thing I had to a mom…

"Whaddya want, Chambers?" Mr. Michaels hacked as he threw the door open.

I gazed disgustedly at him. He was grossly overweight, had a big bulbous nose, and shot spittle every word he spoke. He wore dirty shorts and a sweatshirt that read 'I'm Dead Sexy'. He had only a few greasy strands of wiry red hair, as well as some chin stubble. I held my breath to avoid his horrible stench. _If he were a Pokémon type, it'd be Poison…_

"Mr. Michaels," I started, "I need you to be my mommy and heal my Bulb-is-sore."

He had that 'mental institution' look in his eyes, but leant against the doorframe gamely. "What's its name, huh?" he smirked, "I'll heal it if I like its name."

I gulped again. Bulb-is-sore's name? There's something I forgot to do.

I thought through a quick list of names in my head._ Frog… Toad… Frog 'n' Toad… Bush… George…_

"Leaves!" I blurted out finally, "His name is Leaves!"

Mr. Michaels rolled his eyes, unimpressed.

"A pile of leaves… looks a lot like money!" I said quickly, appealing to his second-favourite thing, after himself.

"Hey hey!" Mr. Michaels cackled, his layers of fat jiggling as though they were laughing too, "Alright, I'll do it. So where is it?"

I scooped up Leaves, who seemed to be regaining consciousness.

"Right here!" I shouted with a grin, hovering Leaves around Mr. Michaels' face. There was a low snarl, as Leaves came back to. Mr. Michaels just barely ducked a barrage of sesame seeds from the struggling Bulb-is-sore before it fainted again.

Mr. Michaels looked at his hole-filled wall, then at me, seething with anger. "You want me to heal it, you little worm?"

He picked up Leaves by the throat. "Ding ding ding-aling," he mocked the Pokémon Centre tune, "And that's all you're gonna get from me!"

Again, a snarl emanated from the Bulb-is-sore.

"Hey!" I grinned, "It worked!"

Looking up furiously, Leaves shot off his last round of sesame seeds. He nailed the windows, the nearby fish tank, the bowling trophies, all the while in Mr. Michaels' hand.

Mr. Michaels turned very pale as glass and water began scattering all around him. Leaves fell to the floor, and let out a small chuckle as he ran out the front door. I thought it wise to follow him, and stood out in the street, panicking.

"Aww Hölle!" I finally let out, "You killed Mr. Michaels!"

Leaves looked up at me, and shook his head.

"Aww Hölle!" I continued, "You didn't kill Mr. Michaels!"

We headed toward the edge of Burake Town, and I tapped my chin pensively.

"Problem with all this is, I still don't have a Mintythrill…" I muttered, "So what do you say, Leaves? Will you join me in my quest, and be steadfast in your efforts to help me locate and capture my very own Mintythrill?"

He shook his head, frowning.

"Alrighty then…" I said, thinking. "Will you join me in my quest so you can break things and steal stuff?"

To this, Leaves nodded confidently.

"And so, we're off to Dezu City!" I shouted, pointing ahead. "Look out, world! I'm out to get my Mintythrill and be the best trainer since Jane Fonda! Here comes Terrible Tony!!"

Leaves cheered with all his heart.

"And his Bulb-is-sore!"

Annoyed, Leaves fell to the ground, and let out a loud sigh. "Saaaaaaaur…"

"No time for apologies my friend." I grinned, "We've got a Pokéthing journey to do!"


	3. Route Something or Other

**MINTY THRILL**

**Chapter the Second**

**Route Something or Other**

With my newfound Bulb-is-sore Leaves, I was on the road to Dezu City, the first place to find a Mintythrill, fight a Jim Leader and get a badge. There were several grand tales about these beginnings, although oftentimes I wondered how many Jims there could be…

"You know Leaves," I muttered, looking down at him, "You're not gonna be walking around with me for long. I'm gonna get you a Pokéball soon, so don't get too comfortable." Leaves shot an offensive look at me, and snarled loudly. I backed up, intimidated by his impressive dental features.

"Alright, alright!" I gulped, "But… can't we walk a little faster? It's starting to get a little cloudy out here, and I don't want to get caught out in the rain." Grinning, Leaves looked up at the sky. It then hit me that… well, he liked rain.

"That better not be some weird fetish…" I snapped, "The last thing I want is a Pokémon that gets 'excited' when the opponent uses Rain Dance."

Despite our friction however, Leaves and I had recently established an important understanding, and that was that cheating is good. We would be sure to use any underhanded tricks we could, from sand in the eyes to a kick in the groin. All good tacticians were cheaters, after all. Napoleon Bonaparte was notorious for pushing people over while playing Twister, for one. Of course, the Christian inside me knew that too much cheating would prove hazardous to the soul, so we'd have to use it strictly as a backup plan. Plan B, we'd call it. …And hopefully, plan A would fall short with startling regularity.

I stepped off the dirt trail into the knee-high grass. It was a very unkempt route, I suppose.

"I better start catching some Pokémon if we're gonna beat this Jim guy." I announced. Leaves sighed, and sat down nearby.

"Now then, how does one flush out the Pokémon, anyway?" I pondered, "Umm… Maybe if I make a Pokémon call…" I cleared my throat, before waving my arms out, and bellowing. "RABBITA! PORRIDGEY!"

Alas, no avail.

"Alrighty then…" I said quietly, not yet ready to quit, "How about…" I pondered for a brief moment, before it hit me; "Some food!" I anxiously thrusted my hand into my pocket, but just ended up with a handful of useless, non-palatable Weedle horn. I sighed, and buried my face in my hands. I was just about ready to quit now.

"I don't have any food to lure them out…" I whined, and peered up. A plan was developing, slowly but surely. "What if I… made them think I did have food? There's bound to be something around here that looks edible…" I surveyed the territory. Grass, dirt, Leaves, leaves undeserving of a capital letter. …Leaves? _Hey, there's an idea._

"Hey there, buddy…" I said with a grin, leaning toward the bemused Bulb-is-sore, "Come here for a minute, wouldya?"

"Wow!" I bellowed loudly for all to hear, "This sure is a delicious, uh… green mushroom!!"

Leaves growled furiously, unhappy with his position as a makeshift dinner. I knew that green thing on his back would come in handy.

"It's too bad I'm not hungry, though…" I continued, "So I'll just have to eat a little bit… and leave the rest for some other HUNGRY POKEMON!" Making sure this plan would work, I pretended to nibble at the green thing, then took a big lick at it. Instantly, my face twisted in disgust.

"Aww Hölle!!" I hacked, "My god Leaves! You taste _nasty_!"

Leaves looked at me bitterly as though he wanted to flip the bird. Despite his disappointing flavour however, the scheme seemed to work rather quickly when nearby in the grass a rustling was heard. I ducked low, bobbing up and down giddily. After a short pause, out came a weird dark blue Pokémon with a crazy orange planty thing atop its head. It looked rather gloomy indeed; unlikely it was a Happy. I shot up quickly, and pointed a waggling finger at it.

"Ah-ha!!" I cried, taking a deep breath in as I did. My face twisted, taking a whiff of the aroma that was emanating from this literally stinkin' little twerp. "Gaaag…" I choked, "That smells terrible! Gah! Boof!!" I waved Leaves forward to attack it. He didn't seem to mind the smell, actually. Chances are he was overwhelmed with urges to kill this thing. He did seem to have that 'sesame seed stare' of his.

"Leaves," I began, mulling over which attack he should use. _Say, what were his attacks again? There was, umm… uhhhhh… uh-oh._

Sick and tired of waiting like a good little weed, the opposing Pokémon swayed back and forth like a Bob Marley groupie, and a strange yellow cloud of dust fired out from the noggin plant. It landed atop a confused Leaves, who shivered slightly and started teetering to the side.

"That's it!" I shouted suddenly, "Leaves, Growl!"

Leaves shook off the minor paralysis and snarled at the Pokémon. He then looked back at me as though to ask 'now what?' _Now what indeed._ I stood there blankly.

"Leaves!" I said, "Growl again!"

Leaves growled on command, then looked back.

"…Growl some more!" I demanded. He left off a small groan that sounded more like he had a migraine, and then hung his head low in disgust.

"Keep on growling, Leaves! I have a plan!"

And so for a couple hours it went on this way. I failed to remember any other attacks, and Leaves growled each time I told him to do so. By this point the word 'growl' sounded incredibly weird after such repetition, and of more important note, the other Pokémon never responded. I was about to cunningly command Leaves to growl, when I heard an odd sound.

"Leaves, is that you?" I asked, to which Leaves shook his head in the negative. He listened up as well. It was a bizarre sound, like a sort of throaty breathing. After a while, I noticed it was coming from the opponent. When I realised the situation, a huge sweatdrop appeared on my forehead. "It appears to be… sleeping."

Leaves collapsed to the ground, and I chuckled nervously for a moment. Suddenly, something came to me.

"Leaves!!" I shouted dramatically. Disinterested, he just peered at me out of the corner of his eye. "Use TACKLE!!"

Leaves got up quickly, thrilled to bits and ready to similarly smash the weed into bits, too. He shot off in its direction like a rocket; he was surprisingly spritely on those little legs. He crashed straight into it with picture perfect form, sending it rolling back dizzily across the ground.

"Good work!" I grinned, ready to take the credit and claim my first capture, "Pokéball go!" I reached into my pocket and quickly tossed out a… handkerchief? It landed on the Pokémon's head in what turned out to be a very good shot, but unfortunately it didn't seem to do much to capture it. The Pokémon soon stood up and threw the handkerchief aside. Its squinty eyes widened as it stared at us angrily, and the stench began to resurface worse than ever.

"Yikes!" I bellowed, "Run for it Leaves!!" We dashed off down the path and, although I was concerned for our safety, I was more interested in the pleasing fact that we were finally making good ground.

After a while we stopped, panting heavily. This certainly wasn't good; I didn't have any cash on me, so I couldn't afford any Pokéballs. And without an array of Pokémon, I couldn't exactly win any monetary prizes. Worse still, I didn't even have anything to blow my nose with now. All I had left was my pen and the Weedle horn. Though in my frantic sprint, I did come across a walkman. It was lousy and I would have to pay someone else to buy it, but it was _mine_, dammit.

I began to pace back and forth. This was so very not good. So very very not good. In fact, I came to the conclusion that this was so not good it was bad.

After several minutes pacing which produced a small crater in the ground, Leaves let out an excited "Bulb!" I looked up to see what he was so thrilled about, tempted to respond with a bulb of my own. I spotted a short kid walking in our direction, alongside him a small brown Pokémon with a bone in its hand and wearing a very cheap football helmet. There was no logo on it, no facemask… jeez, it certainly wasn't officially licensed.

I was about to scoff at this, though something twigged in my mind from the classes. Thinking hard, I recalled that this critter was a Cubone. There was no mistake, this was the Lonely Pokémon; I had actually spent the class crying over it. This one seemed to have a small spotted red fruit dangling on a string from one of its spikes.

"Hi!" said the kid in a cheery voice, "I'm Richard. I'm a Pokémon trainer. I'm only ten, but I'm really good! I see you're a trainer, too."

"And what proof do you have?" I snapped, to which Richard pointed at Leaves. "Well…" I muttered, "It could've been a mouldy frog."

"This here is Cubone," Richard continued. The aforementioned Cubone twirled his trademark bone across his fingers, then struck a pose. Hoping we wouldn't notice, Richard changed the subject; "Would you like to engage in a one-on-one battle?"

I leant over towards Leaves. "Should I do it?" I whispered. He nodded quickly, so standing up tall, I gave Richard a big smile. "I'm Anthony. I've got only one thing to say." I suddenly leapt at Richard and threw him into a headlock. "Gimme all your money or Leaves will Growl the crap outta you!!"

Leaves gulped and shouted Bulba-insults at me.

"…Oh," I said sheepishly, "You meant I should agree to a battle…"

Leaves nodded frantically. I let go of Richard slowly, stood there a moment, then dropped to the ground and put Leaves in a headlock. "Next time, you tell me when you don't mean plan B!!"

Richard and his Cubone looked at me wide-eyed, and I hesitated from my Pokémon abuse. "Uhh…" I muttered, "Just giving him a friendly hug. Yup."

Richard looked at Leaves and I, thought for a bit, then bent over toward Cubone and whispered something in his ear. Well, that is if he has an ear. Something I often ponder. Cubone took a moment to contemplate us as well, then gestured a thumbs-up towards Richard.

"How about we throw in an extra quirk?" Richard said deviously, "The winner gets 10… and the loser's Pokémon!"

I gasped in shock. "Are you crazy??" I shouted, "…Ten bucks? Man, you are so gonna be 10 poorer! Leaves and I are gonna rip that wussy little brown thing apart! We're gonna mangle him and strangle him and cripple him for life. …Then we'll take him!" We took a few steps back and my companion and I stared down the enemy. I couldn't help but dwell on how short the kid was. Should I have been thinking of something fiercer?

"Go Cubone!" Richard finally commanded.

"Go Cubone!" I said too, leaving Leaves to look at me, puzzled. "Well, it was worth a try. Go Leaves!"

Leaves and Cubone dashed towards each other. Richard made the first command, "Cubone, start this off with Bone Club!" Cubone lifted his bone like a club, though it could've resembled a hammer or any other bludgeoning object really.

"Leaves," I said nervously, "Duck! Quick!" He quickly slid to a halt on his belly, Cubone raced past, swinging the bone and nicking the top of Leaves' foul-tasting 'green mushroom'. Snapping his fingers unhappily, Cubone stumbled to a clumsy stop.

"Now Leaves, do that Tackle thing!" I cried. Wasting no time, Leaves charged at Cubone, who was turning about face. Leaves shouted a cry as he closed in on his target, and then leapt at him fiercely. There was a loud crunching sound upon impact and Leaves landed on the ground, seeming to have hurt his shoulder. Cubone fell back as well, but instantly flipped up onto his feet and readied himself.

"Haha!" Richard shouted with triumph, "You can't overcome Cubone's defence with such a feeble collision! Cubone, make them sorry for that mistake with Thrash!"

Fuming, I looked at Richard, who had suddenly changed from a chirpy little kid to a cocky punk. _He'd be a lot less smug with my fist in his mug…_

Leaves had been winding his arms to try and sit back up, but wasn't having much luck. He couldn't stop Cubone from leaping atop him, ready to attack. Cubone proceeded to slap the living snot out of him with his bone, while Leaves could only flail about frantically, trying to get Cubone off his back. He got to his feet, but Cubone held tight, the Bulb-is-sore reduced to stumbling around like a drunkard.

I had to think fast. Leaves' little claws were useless; he couldn't reach up and pry Cubone from atop him. It was high time I stopped trying to fight this battle like a Pokémon trainer and just use whatever came to me.

"Do a barrel roll!" I ordered, and Leaves promptly did so, causing Cubone to lose grip and fall to the dirt. Leaves followed this up by leaping atop his opponent in a kind of belly flop. Cubone bellowed in pain; I took it Leaves wasn't light. The Bulb-is-sore stood up and opened his mouth wide. He was about to do something either very dramatic or very cannibalistic.

"Bulb………aaaaaaaaaaa…" he droned, and his leafy growth began to glow and pulse. In any other story, that would've sounded rather rude.

Cubone twitched slightly, then suddenly sprang to life and kicked up off the ground. Before Leaves could reveal his dynamic intentions, Cubone had desperately flung his bone straight down Leaves' gaping mouth. He choked and his eyes watered, his green thing dying down to its regular colour. Cubone proceeded to punch and kick at his helpless target, who was too devastated by this onslaught to defend himself. Cubone lifted his fist, and wound up a final punch.

"Noooo!" I whimpered, as Leaves stood there dizzily.

Before he could land the clincher, Cubone stopped as suddenly as he had began. His fist fell to his side and he looked around, befuddled.

"Alright!!" I said with glee, "He's highly confuzzled! That's what happens when you make him Thrash around like a git, Richie!"

Before we could capitalise or I could cite some other fascinating fact, Cubone ripped the fruit off his spike and chomped it down. He instantly regained his focus.

"…Until he eats a Bitter Berry! Confusion nullified." Richard laughed wickedly, "Now Cubone, put that TM to good use and Dig!" Cubone threw aside the mouthwash he had been gargling while the attention was off him, pulled the bone from Leaves' mouth, then span it along his fingers like some… thing that spins. He thrust it toward the ground, and started to drill. He leapt down the hole he was rapidly digging, and Leaves had finally gotten his second wind. Cripes, must've been twelfth wind by this point.

"Leaves!" I gulped, "Brace yourself!" Leaves grinned sneakily and uncovered something shiny from under the dirt. He slipped it over his claw and raised it menacingly at no one in particular.

"Brass knuckles?" I groaned, "No Leaves, I'm not talking about plan B! Not _that _kind of brace…"

Cubone interrupted as he shot out from the ground underneath Leaves, propelling them both into the air. Leaves was pummelled fiercely by the propeller-like bone beneath him, before they both fell to the ground. Cubone landed on his feet, Leaves landed on my feet.

"Leaves!" I gasped mournfully (mostly because that bloody hurt). I bent over to pick him up, and the walkman squirted out of my pocket. It landed on the ground and the radio dial flicked across the stations. A static tune came out, like some sort of pep rally cheer. Cubone's eyes widened and he flinched slightly. He lifted the bone up his head, span it again and began stepping towards us.

"Oh no!" I cried, "This is it!"

Cubone quickly threw the spinning bone above his head. He stood there stomping on the spot, then caught it and marched back in the other direction.

"Cubone, NO!" Richard wailed, "You can't do this to me now! Stop that marching!!" Leaves slowly got to his feet, looked at me over his shoulder and I shrugged in response. Seems this Cubone had a thing for music.

"Now's our chance!" I said, "A regular Tackle won't do… Damn well Gore that thing!!" Leaves hunched over for a moment, and then tore off toward his target so fast he was like a blur. When Cubone turned back to us on his march, Leaves crashed into him with such force the pair flew back several feet, before they landed into the hard ground. Cubone lifted his arm weakly and tried to get up, then fell back down.

"I woooooooon!" I cheered, and looked at Leaves. He was tired and battered, but happy. I shot my fist to the air and leapt up and down like a hoon, while Leaves started to walk back towards me.

"Fire Blast!!"

Richard's command came so fast, and Cubone's final attack so much faster that neither Leaves nor I knew what hit us. There was a bright red flash from Cubone's mouth, and a star-shaped flame launched out and engulfed Leaves. I shielded my face as Leaves fell to the ground, char-black. It was too hopeful to assume he was just a very good pretender. Leaves was down and out.

I stood there silently. I… lost?

"Yeeeeeaaaah!" Richard screeched, jumping up and down, "I win, and now your Bulbasaur is MINE!!" He ran onto the battlefield, ready to scoop up both Pokémon.

_No! This isn't happening! I won't let it! I ain't forking over Leaves or 10!! There has to be some way of fixing this… Hang on, ten? How about if I…? Hey, it might work…_

"Wait!!" I roared, and Richard stopped in his tracks.

"What?" he snapped, annoyed, "Is it about my 10?"

"I should think not!" I said fiercely, and strolled toward him, "When you first spoke to me, how old did you say you were, son?"

"Ten." He replied, "Why?"

"You're awfully smart for your age…" I said, smiling. That smile quickly turned to an intimidating frown, "But not smart enough! You're underage, you can't be a legally licensed Pokémon trainer!" I stomped right up to him and towered over him. I had to take this thing a step further.

"I am from the Pokémon FBI! I'm Agent Tony from the…" trying to think up a name, I looked down at the purple dinosaur on my shirt, "Yenrab division of underage drinking, smoking and other naughty acts!"

Richard whimpered miserably. Either I was scaring him or I had bad BO.

"Now listen up." I continued, "You're a good kid… so I won't turn you in."

"R-really?" he stammered quietly.

"Yeah," I said warmly, "I won't even take your money… I'll just take Cubone with me so you don't get in any trouble, okay?"

Richard nodded without hesitation and wiped away a tear.

"Now get outta my sight before I change my mind!" I snapped, and with that he ran off toward Burake Town. …Television had saved me again. No way I could've come up with that Pokémon FBI rubbish myself. Of course, I can't remember what show it was. I think it had a pineapple and someone named Frank. Frank the Pineapple? Probably not.

Cubone watched as his trainer ran off into the distance, then up at me uncertainly.

"Hey," I muttered, folding my arms, "Not my fault your trainer didn't realise he was actually old enough to be a trainer. Why, the way things are going these days, he's probably old enough to grab a pack of smokes like Maltybros and drink some Jack Damniels…" Cubone chortled at my pronunciation difficulties, a thorny issue with me.

"Hey, let that slide and I'll play lots of music for ya." I chided, to which he nodded happily. Just as well, I didn't expect a 'Lonely' Pokémon to do much happily.

After a short rest and lots of poking with a stick, Leaves had regained consciousness and we were ready to finish the walk to Dezu City. Why, Richard had even left behind Cubone's Pokéball when he took off. I thought I would leave the little gaffer out for now, though. I stretched, and my hand landed on the back pocket I had forgotten these shorts had. I pulled out a tape and grinned.

"Guess what?" I said with a grin, "I even have some travelling music for us!" Cubone hopped up and down happily, and Leaves gave a disinterested smirk. I popped it in the walkman, pressed play and, after a few seconds, the opening guitar to the Proclaimer's _I'm Gonna Be _began to play. _They're gonna love this!_

To the Pokémon's shock, it was my voice that proceeded, as I belted out a tune.

_When I wake up, well I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who wakes up for Xatu! When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be the man who captures Pikachu! _It was the special karaoke version I had sung to motivate my Pokémon. Leaves and Cubone screamed, then tore off at top speed toward Dezu City.

"Wow, look at that," I muttered, "I guess that motivation stuff really does work."


End file.
